Scythe of Sky
by Light-of-Halo
Summary: When storms arise they strike quick or slow. Storms topple and tear things apart leaving countless mourning and fallen. As the West lurches to the Sanzo party, one will fall, and the other must conquer himself to embrace an unnoticed love. SanxGoj yaoi.
1. Dust

Act one: Dust.

The dust clogged the air behind them; the wake of Jeep was a living thing, grasping out to everything around it, and it drove them all nuts. It hadn't rained for weeks where they were, monsoon season was no where to be tasted. The dust made everything look the same, there wasn't even any scenery to pick out, just a hollow, dusty plain. Even the sky looked stained in yellow brown sand.

"Damn thiff dufft!" Gojyo shouted; his words came out muffled from the cloth he and his friends had wrapped around their mouths and noses. His long blood red locks were dampened in intensity due to the dust, leaving them murky. Goku found little solace on the floorboard of Jeep, the floor was dirty and caked with dirt.

"Not one mo' word." Sanzo warned from the front of the Jeep, his gun's safety clicked menacingly to unsafe. His violet eyes darted back to the seat and Hakkai pretended not to notice as he continued their track to the nearest city. If they didn't hurry, hakurryu would be too dust filled to move.

"Are we thur yet?!" Goku asked after a few minutes and a gunshot rang like a bell tolling. Goku and Gojyo both jumped from their spots and cowered in separate corners of Jeep. Sanzo busied himself with cleaning his sutra from dust, like nothing had happened. 'I had to do something; it was too dusty to smoke.' Sanzo thought. The sun hung at an irritating angle, right into the Holy man's eyes and he was on his last nerve, so was everyone. Who knew weather could do this.

Gojyo grumbled incoherently, the futility of avoiding the dust, the sun, and the mission West heavily set on his shoulders. The mission was getting more and more difficult each meter they drove, each assassin they killed, and the thought that kept ricocheting in his mind was he knew that the first to fall would most likely be him.

'Better me than the others….except for maybe that pain in the ass priest.' He looked at the muted blonde hair, whipping in the wind and dust like a treasure in the desert. Gojyo closed his eyes, the dust was getting to them, and he settled for finding solace in sleep, achieving only a fitful doze.

Goku, the mischievous youkai he was, would usually mess with Gojyo, but now he simply felt too hungry, and too dirty to care at this point. Sanzo was in a bad mood, and he felt no need to be shot, for once he knew when to let things slide.

"Ah, looks like we have a bit of company…" Hakkai announced after an hour or so. They were only a half an hour outside of the city, and now they had to deal with these stupid assassins. Sanzo, gun already ready, hopped out of jeep along with the others, itching to relieve their frustrations.

"AH! The sutra! Give it to us or face inevitable death! Mhaha!" The leader of the assassins, a dusty devilish one with a long scimitar charged foreword, only to be instantly tossed back by a blast of ki. The others were promptly cut, shot, and smacked down by the rest. The battle was unmemorable, but the feeling afterwards put them all instantly in a better mood. Thus was a normal day in the mission.

"We want 4 rooms." Sanzo stated, Goku was busy shaking dust off himself in the lobby of the Inn, Gojyo wacking him with his arm as he managed to fling more dirt on him.

"But sir…we have but 2…"Sanzo pointed the gun in the Innkeeper's face, but the Innkeeper didn't magically manage to procure any more rooms. The Sanzo party faced to have to bunk together. Normally, the arrangement would be Sanzo and Goku to one room, Hakkai and Gojyo to another, but Sanzo wanted peace, and since Gojyo usually went out on the town anyway, he decided to switch things up.

"Oi, Goku and Hakkai, get this room." He tossed the 2 keys to Hakkai, whose eyes were wide with Goku's.

"Hey now, you mean I have to room with the piss—"Gojyo was cut off by a death glare from Sanzo. He grinned reluctantly, trying to figure out the new arrangements, and trudged up the stairs, matching key in hand. Hakkai went to buy supplies while it was still daytime; Goku immediately chased after him.

The rooms were small, each had a small table, and two twin beds behind it. Chairs surrounded the small table underneath a ceiling fan. Lights from the ceiling fan provided the necessary light for the room. Gojyo flung his belongings on the creaky bed, and turned to go to the Spring.

"Ah, Sanzo, care to join me?" Gojyo smirked and winked causing a frozen violet glare to assault him. Sanzo's glare almost froze his blood; sanzo's face flushed with anger."I take that as a cowardly no." He scampered from the room, not caring to see the look or the weapon that Sanzo had. 'that was probably a stupid thing to do, but….'

'This could either be smart, or stupid on my part' Sanzo thought as he looked at the back of the kappa walking from the meager room to the spring at the back of the Inn. Sanzo, in the back of his mind, he couldn't wait for Gojyo to come back, clean and damp from the spring, his hair glittering red like it should. He then pushed that thought out; he reached for a cigarette and lit it, puffing eagerly. He already removed his robe, adorned only in the black leather top and his pants. The Manten Sutra was folded neatly on the table on the side of the room, clean.

'Attach to no thing, no one, no words.' Sanzo repeated, inhaling and exhaling smoke. After all, there was no point in attaching yourself to something that will never attach in return.

He settled for reading the complimentary newspaper he found. Sudoku puzzle was a difficult one today. Even though it was evening, he needed to occupy himself with something. He only had 5 more numbers to fill in when Gojyo came bursting back in, damp, smelling faintly of flowers. He almost smirked; he picked out the wrong bath oil.

"Ah, Sanzo, that bath was heavenly!" He examined himself in the mirror as he put his wet glistening red hair into a loose horsetail. His scarlet eyes turned to land on Sanzo, who left the uncompleted Sudoku on the table as he turned for the door. Sanzo, trying to just slip on by, left the room without a word.

"Heh, how boring." Gojyo sighed; he was almost ready to go out to the bar and get himself a nice blonde when he saw the missing five numbers on the sudoku puzzle.

"Oi, If the priest can do it, I can!" Gojyo fiddled for a few minutes before scribbling in the answers. 7…6,4,…3…4. He examined his script against Sanzos for a minute. Sanzo's was heavy and thick, precise. Gojyos was light, interpretive and messy. He frowned; knowing that not even their scripts were even close to matching, he went out the door, heading for a bar. And hopefully picking up a chick or two.

' Now, the sparce room seemed too big. Why was he going back on his decision now? 'che, I wanted to be alone, I should be thankful that stupid water sprite left.' Sanzo returned, the room was predictably empty. He originally chosen the room arrangements because he wanted to be alone, knowing the kappa would probably flirting with some broad right now. That last thought made his teeth clench a bit and he sat down at his Sudoku puzzle he left unfinished. He snarled; the kappa scribbled in the answers!

'He just had to go and ruin everything didn't he?' a part of him was pissed, another part of him was curious of why Gojyo would even do such a thing, and get the answers right! Sanzo just about had it; he threw on his robes and his sutra and a well placed scowl and trudged over to the nearest bar he could find, hopefully not the one the perverted kappa inhabited. He didn't feel like a game of cards with Hakkai or Goku tonight. He found a small bar and trudged inside, it looked promising: it had liquor and the Kappa wasn't in it. He sunk into one of the barstools.

"Scotch, straight up." He cut at the bartender, who simply gave him a familiar incredulous glance: a Monk drinking?! He slid the drink down and Sanzo half-heartedly began to drink its strong contents. He ordered another, and then a third. The people in the bar seemed to leave him alone for the most part, except one girl.

"Say, you are either too cute to be a Monk, or too Holy to be cute." She cooed; He didn't even glance up to see that she was already blitzed and not in the condition to be hitting on men. Her pickup line didn't even make sense! She was pretty enough, long dark brown hair and honey eyes, but he wasn't the perverted kappa.

"Save it. Not interested." He spat out and took a long swig of his drink. He grew tired of her swaying gaze; he hated it when people stared at him. He looked up to cut her a glare but she had already turned away, tears glistening in her eyes. 'Great, exactly what I need, a crying woman. Could things get any worse!' And at that moment, Gojyo and a petite blonde with blue eyes came barging into the bar; merry and already a little buzzed.

"Hey, Sanzo-chan! It's not nice to make women cry!" Gojyo chorused, the girl giggled from his light embrace, his arm curled around her back and cupped her waist. Sanzo stared at that hand, and looked in his eyes, and then saw the whole picture: Gojyo, happy as can be, girl, happy as can be, Sanzo, pissed off as can be.

'As long as he takes the bimbo back to her place and screw; I don't care. I don't care at all.' Sanzo balled his hand into a fist and almost, almost swung it at Gojyo's jaw. But he refrained. He had control; especially in public and especially when it came to people in his group. He avoided looking in Gojyos mirthful scarlet eyes as he placed some cash on the bar and quickly barged out of the bar, jolting Gojyo out of the doorway while doing so. However, Gojyo's eyes weren't all that mirthful.

"Whoa, what got into him?!" Gojyo accidentally voiced his thoughts aloud and the girl attached to him smiled.

"Oh, who cares Gojyo-san; he is just some grumpy old monk! Probably jealous he doesn't have the charm that you do!" She laughed and playfully poked his side. His stomach coiled in a tiny knot seeing how ticked off the monk was

. 'Not much I can do about it now, he doesn't want to see me anyway'. Gojyo quickly assured himself, and he and his arm-caddy named...blonde chick, closed in quickly on an unsuspecting poker table.

Sanzo got what he wanted, a room to himself, no one but him resided in it. The buzz he got from the scotch still lingered strongly and he sat back in the chair gazing out the small window at the stars, smoking his second cigarette. It was late, he didn't know where the time went, and he didn't know why he was still up. Sanzo's eyelids were heavy, and his eyes still stung a little from the dust. He struggled up from the chair and took off his clothes, everything but his pants and curled in the creaky, yet soft bed. He couldn't glance at the clock, he already knew that Gojyo would not be coming in for hours. 'damn what am I, some parent checkin in on curfew? Or some girl? This is stupid, it must be the booze. At least, it's very silent in here, no talking from Goku or snoring from Hakkai'.

"Che!" Gojyo cursed out quietly as his shin struck a chair. The stars were still brilliant, and the moon was still relatively high in the sky. He didn't spend that much time at the girl's place, he felt a bit guilty about upsetting the monk to the point of silence. 'What was he doing in a bar in the first place?!' Gojyo moved to his own bed and watched the rhythmic movement of Sanzo's pale sculpted chest.

Up and down, up and down, the ivory skin rose and fell like waves on the ocean. The moonlight made his chest look like the pale blue of a sea, and his hair was flung about his momentarily peaceful features like feathers from a bird. Gojyo's jaw hung slack, he never saw Sanzo sleep like this. 'Sanzo looks so…content, so innocent. If I didn't know better I'd say he is a monk!' It almost made him snort. 'Sanzo is always a pain in the ass when awake, but when asleep he looks like he landed on fricken cloud nine'. Sanzo could not be any of those things awake, but asleep was a completely different story. He felt something within him tug a bit, his fingers itched a bit to touch Sanzo's skin, to see if he actually was as smooth as he looked, but his joints were simply not into staying sitting up. He plopped down on the bed, still watching Sanzo as he too found a little sleep before daybreak.

Hey, LOH here, this is my first saiyuki story so bear with me as I play a bit with the character's personalities and such. :P please review, I want to know if I should continue this or not!!


	2. Devil

Chapter two: Devil

Morning came too early for the one with violet eyes

"Unh." I grunt as the slanted sun shines through the blinds, striking my closed, violet eyes. Dawn just broke. Usually I would be up by now if he hadn't spent half the night in a fitful sleep because of the red head. Glaring at the other bed, I notice Gojyo still sprawled out on his back, crimson hair splayed across the pillow. The sight last night bubbles in my brain and I wish I could vanquish it from my mind. I hate him.

"Damn, this is the last time I share a room with the kappa." I grumble as I don my robes and sutra, making sure it was straight before I tuck my gun and my fan inside. I walk out the room, not caring if I disturb the redhead behind me, I don't care if he wakes up. I walk down the hard wood stairs and find the coffee pot just finish brewing. It was quiet, Hakkai wasn't up yet, Goku wasn't munching yet, Gojyo…was still in my fucking room. Thank kami. I hastily grab a mug and pour some coffee. Black. And sit down to the paper, reading the front page first, noting the weather conditions might improve. Might. Though I don't have the senses like youkai can have.

"Hello Sanzo. It seems to be a good day." Hakkai announces, cheerful as always. I grunt a reply. No one gets a word response till I've finished drinking my first cup. I take another sip and continue to read the article. Hakkai is quiet enough; only the rustling of the fabric and the clinking of cheap china can be heard as he grabs some sticky buns, sausage and other food items for breakfast. He cares too much. Goku and Gojyo can get their own food.

"YUM! FOOOOD! Hiya Sanzo!" Goku practially jumps down a flight of stairs, his eyes as wide as the plates the food rests on. He grabs most the sausage and a few sticky buns and immediately begins to devour all in sight. Hakkai simply sits and munches delicately on granola. I flip the page of the newspaper, not meaning to count the seconds before he comes down to eat. But I only got to 18 before I see out of my peripheral vision a flash of slate blue and red.

"Oi, saru, save some sausage for me!" Gojyo yelled as he plopped down next to Goku, across from the Monk. Gojyo immediately grabbed some sticky-buns and some juice. His smirk while sneakily trying to capture one of Goku's sausages did not go unnoticed by me. I really don't know why I'm watching him. I take a gulp of my coffee and proceed to the jumble.

Tifelu is futile. I scribble into the squares with a pen I found next to the paper.

"I'm not a monkey ya Cockroach! And I ain't letting ya touch my food!" Goku ripped his plate from the table, away from the prowling eyes of Gojyo. I steal a look at Gojyo, concealing it as an icy warning glare. I needed to figure out, if he looked the same as he did last night, asleep. He didn't. He looked alive, he looked like normal Gojyo, vibrant, irritating, argumentative, a pain in the ass.

Imaetniet is Terminate…2 down 2 to go.

But last night, he didn't look like that. Last night, asleep, on his back, he looked completely opposite. He was flat on his back, mouth slightly slack, skin pale in the moonlight, his red hair on the pillow. He moved so little in his sleep. It was slightly unnerving. He barely breathed. He was a heavy sleeper too, yet he looked so dead. I don't know why he had to learn to sleep like that, barely moving, yet sleeping so soundly I could load my gun with six bullets aim and fire while yelling and he wouldn't shift a bit.

Orefedbo is Forebode, I scribble again. The jumble sure is depressing.

"You and what army, monkey butt?!" Gojyo lunged for his plate, while Goku flailed and pushed him back with his other hand and foot. Hakkai, simply smiled, and continued to munch, every so often giving a scrap to Hakurryu. I grumble to myself, usually I can withstand their bickering and do my word jumble, but today I cant.

To say that I was asleep completely when Gojyo walked into the room would be a lie. I slipped in and out of a light doze until Gojyo slept soundly. I didn't know why, it stupefies me. He never lost sleep, ever, but there I was, unable to fully deeply sleep. He watched me also, I know it; I could feel his scarlet eyes on me, glazing me. It took me all my self control not to open my eyes and yell at him.

"Knock it off!" I raise my voice and whap both Gojyo and Goku over their heads, Hakkai secretly thanking the kami for the cease of noise. Gojyo and Goku grumbled and rubbed their heads, before eyeing each other and grabbing more food as if there was a race to see who could down the most eggs. I think I heard them mumbling 2, 3, 4…

liicdietsa is idealistic. I almost crack a smirk as I finally get the 10 letter word. That one was too easy. Well, I'm finished, so is everyone else.

"Ok, we leave in ten, no later." I put my paper down and sneak some bacon before going out to light my morning smoke. I step out of the distracting scene of Goku and Gojyo smashing food into their mouths like we won't eat for weeks and onto the small wooden porch, leaning up against a wind-worn post. I slip out a Marlboro and light it unconsciously. The smoke zigzags and curls into the air, making designs similar to long lines of calligraphy. Inhale exhale. Inhale exhale. Nicotine is so good. My eyes look out to the buildings and carts lining the road for the business day. Early morning shoppers mill about, but otherwise it's dead quiet. The desert is not a place for noise.

"Oi, Sanzo. The locals don't want us to leave. They—" I cut off Goku, how did that loud thing sneak up on me?!

"We are leaving. Get extra water and rations together with Hakkai." I command, inhaling more than I intended and having to puff an exaggerated exhale.

"But Sanzo th—" He stops talking when I shoot him a glare and reveal my six shooter. He scoots away; I hear a murmur of Hakkai and a snicker from Gojyo. They shuffle around and Hakkai emerges with hakuryuu on his shoulder. Hakkai looks off into the distance, beyond the shops.

"The locals warn of us sandstorms. The nearest town is only a day away however, close for a desert." He informs me. I take a long drag. I don't care about storms that don't involve rain.

"We are going. Sandstorms are common in any desert. We won't be decreasing our risk for them if we linger here." I state smoothly, end of discussion. Hakkai nods and Hakuryuu hovers into the street and transforms into jeep, scaring many of the early day shoppers into shops. Stupid peasants. I stub out my cigarette and look into the hanging sun. Sweat beads on my forehead: it's already getting hot. I hear Goku and Gojyo bicker in the background as they emerge with the supplies and extra water. I clamber into the passenger side of Jeep and Gojyo and Goku follow closely.

"Nuh uh! Stupid cockroach! That's stupid!" Goku squeals back and tries to sock Gojyo. It's lucky Gojyo was born with long arms, he managed to dodge it by putting his hand to Goku's head. The desert isn't a straight horizon line anymore, it is now speckled with craggy rocks that jut out of the smooth sand like shattered beer bottle glass: sharp and unexpected. The mountains are obviously near.

"Yup, ya stinky monkey, Sandstorms have a mind of their own, they purposely ruin good fortune." Gojyo announces some bullshit. Sandstorms are just storms, they don't mean anything. Sweat begins to drip down into my eyebrows, and seeps from my chest, the sun is relentless; a nice white cloud would be of some use. My forehead and palms are already getting damp.

"Sand isn't alive stupid kappa! It can't have a mind!" Goku counters, trying to shove the kappa back; who ends up shoving Goku back, and a tussle begins. A headache slowly begins, on top of the heat. I take out my Smith&Wesson and fire two warning shots near them, making sure I miss Hakuryuu. They stop, but Goku clutches the heavy supply bag near him, just in case he needs something to whack with. Gojyo unfreezes from the bullet whizzing by him, the wind catching his hair and flinging it about in a fit. I turn my attention away from the back seat, enjoying the slight moment of silence for the time being, though baking in the oven sky.

The village shrunk away long ago.

Though, in the side-view mirror, I catch flashes of red being carried by gusts of wind, whipping it back and forth, quicker and quicker, murkier and murkier. The dust creeps back. I put my robe to my mouth and nose, Hakkai does the same with a part of his outfit as well as Goku. The dust turns coarser, almost like dirt or sand, and it begins to sting as it is flung into our eyes, and unprotected skin. It sticks to the sweat on my forehead. Gojyo goes to untie his Bandana when it gets caught by a gale of wind and blows it back to the extra tire on Hakuryuu.

"Damnit!" Gojyo turns back to retrieve the bandana on the back of Hakuryuu when a distant whistling is heard. I turn my head fractionally to the South...something is brewing. It can't be…no, the paper called for good weather. A fucking sandstorm. Perfect. Hakkai speeds up, hoping to outrun the sandstorm approaching from the left side. It's a wall, more menacing than any demon that Kougaiji could summon. I swear it has teeth and eyes. However, it slopes off like a mountain, we can probably outrun it.

"Gojyo get back in the Jeep, a sandstorm is coming!" Hakkai yells; his voice almost lost in the growing whirlwinds. Gojyo nabs his bandana, only for a volley of wind and biting sand to crash against jeep from the left, knocking Jeep off its center of gravity, and spilling Gojyo off. A wind-caught shout was barely heard as a flash of red left the side view mirror permanently in a cloud of swirling dust and sand. I twist around instantly, trying to see in the billowing wake of Hakuryuu a swatch of scarlet, of blue, of anything.

It was unreal that he could be swallowed up by only the first wake of the storm. Gojyo. I can't choke anything out.

"Gojyo!" Goku and Hakkai shout simultaneously. Goku struggling to see in the back with his youkai vision and Hakkai looks to me with a panicked look. If we slow down, to get Gojyo; we won't outrun the sandstorm, but if we don't slow down…the water demon's chances of survival were…I can't think of it. My stomach matches my knotted fist as I have to make the only decision I can. Hakkai's ki shield wouldn't hold up against the wall of sand barreling towards us. And at this point, I can't see where the winds could have pitched Gojyo, nor where the sands buried him.

"Dr—"A spark of silver ignites my sight, Gojyo's Shakujou! Its crescent blade and thick steel chain sailed low towards hakuryuu. It's streamlined enough it might just make it. I lean out of Jeep as much as my legs can bear against the howling winds to grab the chain. I feel my whole body, my entire being, stretch as far as I could possibly go. Instantly, a similar incident comes to my recollection.

Falling, over a cliff. That stupid demon pushed me over a fucking cliff. Yet, in a shot of silver, my body goes from falling to hanging. He pulled me up from over the edge. His hands were a bloody mess.

I will pay him back the favor.

Right as his Shakujou reaches the end of its long chain; my sweaty fingers touch surprisingly cool metal. I grip it fast and brace my feet against Jeep and pull with every muscle. My teeth clench as I see Goku fly to the right side of Jeep and pull on the chain with me, making sure the deadly blade does not writhe wildly in the wind, Goku clamps it down with his foot. Hakkai keeps on a steady pace, but the sandstorm grows closer and Hakuryuu can only take so much sand. I would settle for dragging Gojyo through the sand, but I doubt we can hold our grip for that long. The chain extends into a smarmy yellowbrown bee's nest of stinging sand. Gojyo has to be stronger than this, he has to be. I'm not letting that stupid kappa leave us again. I find reserves to pull harder.

"Hang on you stupid kappa! Gojyo!" I yell; hoping my voice can carry, but Hakuryuu runs over a rock hidden by the swarming sand. I feel me and Goku lean out of the Jeep farther than we anticipated. We are going to fall out as well. Shit. I feel my legs lose their leverage, and my silk robes gain no traction against the smooth edge of jeep as I hang precariously over, like a ball about to roll down stairs.

I feel the chain become more burdensome and a pair of tanned arms loop around my waist and jerk me back. Hard. Too hard. My sweaty hands lose their tight grip on the Shakujou from the surprise jerks. And as I feel myself land backwards onto a wincing Goku, I see the crescent blade fly off into the winds, complementing the yellow orange sand with its bluish silver. Another memory floods my mind as the Shakujou, Gojyo's last chance, slings off into a twisting, snarled angle.

See how the orange of the airplane compliments the blue sky?

I'm suddenly very cold. I close my eyes. The sun, everything has gone out. The coldness is familiar though, it's hauntingly familiar. A hollow pang vibrates in my clenched gut. I hear Goku shrieking and shouting, pleading and thrashing. I don't really even feel the wind anymore, like I'm sinking into the hollow pang.

I couldn't pay him back.

And as Hakkai lays the throttle down harder, I could almost see his smile grows taught like a tightrope and his eyes harden like crystal. I could feel the beginnings of the wall of sand thunder and ravage just behind us, the sand fills Jeep and every fold and crevice of clothing and hair and skin. Yet, my eyes don't open. I don't want to look behind us. I don't want to look. No one can make me. Especially not Gojyo.

Behind closed eyes, I recall the last time I really watched him, in the tilted morning light, body splayed, stagnant, his face relaxed, mouth slightly open. Eyelids closed shut over his scarlet eyes that match the fan of hair pouring over the flat pillow. I feel something slip away, like the tide on a beach, something in me recedes. I barely find the energy to move my arm from the awkward angle it fell into. Something in me just went out to sea.


	3. Sand

Chapter 3: Sand

Slowly, the silence fades into garbled pleas and frantic squeals interrupted by the inevitable choking on sand the color of old mustard. Reality sinks in. I somehow sat up in a minute of my life I cannot account for. Where was my mind? It doesn't matter now. Jeep pitches across the murky desert, avoiding the jagged rocks that caused the ill-fated jolt.

Jolt. Oh yeah, the shakujou and Gojyo.

"Hakkai! We gotta go ba—" Goku wheezes and hacks up a lung due to the dust and sand. Hakkai remains silent, his monocle flashing a musty yellow. Goku's gold eyes flash, looking to the side of Jeep debating whether to dive over. I grapple his arm.

My eyes bore into him, but words are lost before the wind could try to carry them away. What do I say? My throat fills with gravel and dust and Goku's bloodshot eyes are wide, pleading, and wild. My grip remains vice-tight as we try to avoid the brunt of the sandstorm. We minus one. I let go of his arm; he won't bolt.

I run a hesitant hand through my whipping hair. Since when did I hesitate, since when did I tremble. My knees are knocking about, and it's not all due to Jeep. I grit my teeth and look at Hakkai. I know he can feel my gaze on him, but its taking all his self control, all his restraint not to pull jeep into hasty u-turn, unattach his demonic inhibitors, and fling himself, all martyr-like, into the twisting storm. He would if we weren't here.

I can tell he hates us right now. I hate everything right now.

I never thought you could loathe everything so much as I do right now. And it's pitiful. Really. Non-attachment. That is my major tenet and it's been thrown out the window thanks to this miserable mission with its near impossible goal to be accomplished by four misfits not equipped to deal with this shit. Physically able, mentally probably too, but emotionally, fuck no. I thought I did away with those emotions long ago, when I first got my Smith and Wesson, when he died. But no. They are back like fucking hyenas ready to rip my dead flesh apart.

I look back towards the wall of sand, we managed to outrun it. We minus one. Now the dust is still thick, but the sand has mostly subsided. The sun is back full force, being forgotten in the haze of shady sand. The burning yellow disc mocks us; I didn't feel like it would still be as strong when we got out. Feel.

"Sanzo, what do we do?! Gojyo is uh, is…out there! We gotta go getum! Sanzo!" Goku is freaking out. Hakkai stops Jeep, refusing to drive any further. He calmly opens the driver side door and steps out to look at the mass of sand. His eyes burn more clearly than they ever have before. My hands just tremble. I am angry.

He just had to die at the hands of something we can't get revenge for. You can't get revenge against sand! Fucking sand! Why couldn't be one of Kougaiji's assassins, or one of his posse? Or one of Dr Nii's little inventions ?! Why did it have to be fucking sand?!

"We can't go get him; we would get swallowed up as well." My voice doesn't sound like my own, it's hoarse and scratchy. My mind flashes to his grinning face, dripping wet and fresh from the shower, smelling of flowers. His long red hair shining from the water, and his eyes jumping in delight at making me uncomfortable; it's too damn much. Of the three of them, Gojyo was the one I had no formal or concrete connection to, but something well…seemed there anyway.

"Sanzo, I need to try anyway, even if it costs me my own life." Hakkai states as he takes a long, sure step closer to the whirlwind that could swallow whole villages. He can't be allowed to do this. My trigger finger itches and my banishing gun is revealed, shining much like Gojyo's shakujou did. Does.

"That would be pointless Hakkai." I growl.

"He saved my life once before, I must honor m—" Hakkai begins

"There is no honor here Hakkai! We are in a desert. The only thing that matters here is responsibility!" The words were out before I knew I said them. Hakkai looked grave. His eyes penetrated the weather as if to be a lighthouse. Yet none of our abilities could deal with sand. He gave me a withered look and Goku hopped out of Jeep as well. I didn't even know I got out of Jeep. Hakuryuu transformed back and managed to perch unhappily on Hakkai.

For a long time, all we could do was stare.

43 minutes passed by before the sandstorm moved on. By then we were already in jeep, ignoring the sun, trying to retrace our steps, our movements, anything that could help us find a red needle in a dusty brown haystack. We soon notice that the terrain was quite different, there were rocks in some places there were none before, and sand piled high and low. It is impossible to simply back-track. The futility of it all makes my knuckles crack.

Hakkai stopped Jeep and we jumped out, scattering in all directions. My eyes scanned the straight horizon line, a dot of any color. A shining spot of any kind. The sand was not as hot as it had been, due to its blowing about in the air, but it would soon become piping hot. I shuffled through dunes, looking to where I thought I last saw his shakujou flail off at a dying slant. Dying. Crap.

"Oi Kappaaaaaa!" I shout, my voice not it's best. I prayed for a glint of silver against the light blue sky. The sand grabs and sinks around my ankles, but I trudge quickly, no sand is going to hold me back. Sweat beads and falls into my eyebrows and I spot a smudge of color in a dune near by. I break into a disoriented sprint, stumbling over myself as I race towards the slate blue color. It's him, it has to be him. I notice it as fabric and I hastily climb up the dune and claw for the fabric, knowing that I'll touch skin soon.

Yes. My fingers touch the fabric and I pull back with all my momentum. It pulls free, too easily. Falling ass over heels I realize that all too late that what I grabbed was his headband. Fuck. Fuck fuck! I glare at the piece of fabric that started this whole thing and I fight not to rip it down the center. Gojyo would throw a fit if I ripped this.

"Kappaaaa! Get your ass here now!" My heart rate rapidly increases; it must be me trudging over new little dunes and into new small valleys. I take my gun and fire a few shots in the air, the sound from my revolver will carry more than my voice. It just won't help if we can't locate where he is even if he does hear it. I grimace, stupid kappa, always getting into trouble.

None of this looks familiar. His eyes haunt me, and the sun is gleaming down on me too much. I almost use his handkerchief to wipe away my sweat, but that would feel wrong. The worn fabric in my hand already feels strangely gratifying, ominous and grim.

"We are leaving without you." My voice lowly scratches. This is all his fault, if only he didn't have to be such a klutz. If only he wasn't such a moron, if only he wasn't so weak. I stopped myself. I didn't mean that entirely. He fought along side us, he made us grin. He wasn't the physically strongest, smartest, hell! He was a dumbass who got lucky half the fucking time and he was careless, but he did clean up his own messes. He did pick things up when they slowed down, or got left behind, or forgotten.

It's so fucking ironic that he is the one that slowed us down, got left behind. Damn, when did I start referring to him in the past tense? Do I really think he is gone? Just like that? A fraction of a second in a sandstorm and he is just…dead? I drop to my knees and start clawing through sand. I start huffing, but it must be because of the exertion. Not from him.

Nothing red or silver is here. From my knees I tilt my head skyward and close my eyes, thinking of his face grinning, frowning, concentrated in combat, or softly sleeping. I shake these thoughts from my head as quickly as they came. I open my eyes as sweat runs down my forehead. In the distance I see a blur of red. It's him! I stagger to my feet, wide eyed. He must have heard the shots.

"Gojyo! We are right here! Hakkai bring jeep around!" I yelled my reserves in my voice. Hakkai and Goku turn around to Gojyo, walking to us, his body blurry from the heat rising off the sand. My legs are pumping before I know what's happening; my robes are sticking to me due to the heat. Sweat runs down my legs and face like itching ants, but I don't care, he is getting closer! I hear Hakkai's voice boom at me.

"Sanzo stop! Nothing is there!" I pause and turn around. I'm pissed off. Can't Hakkai see him?! He is right there! I grit my teeth. And whip back around sharply and my vision blackens a bit. I stumble in the sand and Goku steadies me. I take a few deep breaths.

"Sanzo…you saw a mirage, Gojyo…he's not. He isn't…there." I hear the voice float, like the clouds that don't exist in the desert sky. I look up, to where Gojyo was.

He is gone. Truly gone. Vanished.

And then the sky gets dark, and I feel sand hit my face.

"Shit!" My body feels like cement but I fling myself sitting up anyway. My voice sounds slightly better my booming head registers. My legs are tangled in my sheet and I struggle to free them from the vice-like grip. Damn cheap sheets…where is my robe?! I search the room looking for my sutra and robe. I spot them folded on a chair and hastily put them on. The bed next to mine is made, but the blankets showed that someone at least sat on it. The overhead fan whirrs crankily. Something matches my mood. I need some coffee or something…what happened? I must have had another weird dream. All I remember is Gojyo's shakujou flinging off into the distance. My head is foggy, probably the heat. It's a dry heat, but heat nonetheless.

"Sanzo! We were worried!" Goku bursts through the door and I evade a lunging hug. Worried? I'm fine, no injuries.

"Ah, Sanzo-sama. I'm glad you are finally awake." Hakkai enters my room. Tense and strained. What is going on here? I cross my arms in front of my chest. My leather shirt no longer feels sticky, it's just a dry heat, though I still feel sand itching my back. Fucking sand! Wait.

"Where's Gojyo?" I ask, fearing that I already know the answer. Memories start flooding back, the sandstorm. Maybe I dreamt it all. Maybe I woke up and he is just downstairs eating Goku's breakfast. Or lunch or whatever. I study Hakkai's and Goku's eyes.

"When you blacked out…we took you back here. You were dehydronated! And had a stroke!" Goku blurted out quick. His eyes found the floor suddenly quite interesting to look at. So it wasn't a dream; this is real. What happened to Gojyo really did occur. I clench my shaking fist in my robe so Hakkai can't see it.

"It's dehydrated, and heat stroke is different than stroke. And that doesn't answer my fucking question." My hand digs through my robe for my fan. I glare at Hakkai.

"Gojyo…we think is still in the desert." Such a simple sentence from Hakkai made the room fill with a dark, oozing heaviness that shot into my stomach. Unacceptable. Of all the fucking times to have a heat stroke…no. this is all his fault. His fault that he left us. That he couldn't survive the storm. It's his fault he was weak so he died.

"That stupid fuck." I grunt. I am not going to say his name again. "How long was I out?" I bite sharply, like a cracking whip across the darkened room.

"3 hours." Hakkai counterattacks. His smile long forgotten; he hates me right now. Fuck him. Fuck both of them; it's not like any of this is my fault. I swear none of it is. A sharp crescent sweeps crookedly though my vision and I pound my fist on the sidetable

"Fuck you Hakkai! It's not my fault that he is stuck out there!" I snarl.

"Sanzo I never said anything like that, but if you had granted me permission to—"Hakkai began, a slight condescension noticeable in his voice.

"Don't say stuff like that Hakkai! You would have been swallowed! Besides if you hadn't run over that stupid rock—" Goku joined in, surprising Hakkai and me. He is angry too. Gojyo was like a brother to him, and of course the same to Hakkai. He was brothers to them.To me…he was a pest. Nothing more. We hardly even talked to each other. He had nothing in common except smoking. He always got under my skin. He was nothing to me. I shouldn't even be this worked up over him.

What we had was nothing.

"Goku, I am dreadfully sorry that I ran over rocks that populated the desert like a mine field. Perhaps you should have compensated for that." Hakkai's smile was dangerously taut and his eyes sharply set like blades of grass. Goku fumed and stalked over to Hakkai, his heavy feet thumped on the floorboards. Kami, damn this all. My head still hurts. I want some water, or perhaps something stronger to drink.

"Hell with both of you! I'm leaving, don't you dare follow me." I push through in between the bickering Goku and Hakkai, oblivious to their stares, intent on finding the nearest bar. The sun melts into the horizon line, drawing out the indigo from the top of the sky, and the scarlet and crimson from the bottom.

Sunsets remind me of his eyes.

I push him from my thoughts and stomp down the dirt street, eyeing the saloon a few buildings down. People are just now filtering out, intent on busying themselves tonight, but they all have smiles on their faces. Their eyes all reveal laughter or a content anticipation. Mine probably look more homicidal than usual as I fling open the bar door and slump down onto the worn leather barstool.

"Whiskey on the rocks. The strongest." The aging bartender slides down a glass filled with the brown liquor and I greedily gulp down its contents. The burn on the way down I found strangely fulfilling. I motion for another. Then another. And another. And another.

By now I have a good buzz going, and I don't even know what time it is. It's not late, the indigo still hasn't faded from the sky, but the crimson is gone. All gone. Vanished. Another thing engulfed by the desert horizon. Damn sand. I motion for yet another of the same drink and the bartender simply shakes his head. I know I am not the only one to seem this out of sorts in here. But I have no intention on picking up a bimbo like the kappa. Or picking up a poker game like the kappa. Or challenging some slob to a drinking contest like the kappa. Or slyly winking at me just to unnerve me like the kappa.

I swallow the burning liquid; the warmth in my stomach makes my head feel the slightest bit fuzzy. I don't care though.

After some more, I suddenly get the impression that some people are looking at me too closely. Maybe it's just me; maybe they want my money or my sutra. I stumble slightly out of the bar, after paying with the God's money. I sneer; I want to rack up a bill so high on that piece of plastic their fucking heads will spin and send us home. Even Chang An seems better than wherever the fuck I am now. This stupid shithole desert.

Wandering down the street, I try staying in the light of the moon, so I can see where the fuck I'm going. But hey, like it fucking matters. Everyone can just kiss my ass for all I care. I need a find a place to sit down. Hm…that place seems nice. Sitting down against a building, my back flush with its cooling stone wall, I take out my revolver.

It shines in the light of the moon, like my robes, like my blond hair. I'm sure my eyes look damn indigo in the moonlight as well.

Why do I have to shine in the moonlight so fucking well? Oh, my thoughts aren't even making sense anymore. I toy with my weapon, clicking and unclicking the hammer, debating whether I'm up for an old game I used to play: Russian Roulette. I decide no; I'm too lazy to unload the five chambers required to play. Maybe I'll just pull the trigger anyway. Like it would matter.

I gaze up at the moon, which looks a little blurry: the damn moon is out of focus! Of all the nights for the moon to be out of focus. I scoff and turn away. A scowl permanently set on my features. Fuck. Where is he? Why isn't he here? I need to go home; he always was the one to walk me home if I got too far gone. He checked in me when I was drunk. He isn't here. Fuck.

And he isn't coming back. Not to check on me, not to eat Goku's food, not to talk to Hakkai, not to lend me his lighter. Not to fill in my sudoku or wink and suggest sex to piss me off. I run my free hand across my face, rubbing my eyes. My hand rests on my knee, damp. It never rains in the desert, why is my hand wet?! Why am I here on the ground alone?!

All of the sudden, a wave of nausea hits and I turn and vomit on the ground twice. I know it's not just the booze. My stomach just can't handle all this. It wasn't made to. Closing my eyes, I remember his crimson hair splayed out across the white pillow in the moonlight, my fingers craving to touch the crimson.

A water drop lands on the ground beside me, and I know now where the water came from. I can't remember the last time I cried. And I hope I'm drunk enough not to remember this time either. With that, I move away from my vomit and curl up in a ball, grabbing my legs so they won't float away. I make sure I'm a ways down the side of the building, away from the street and the moonlight where bandits could lurk and could spot me. My knees are shaking. I sigh. And clench and re clench my fist. Tomorrow I'll be over this, over whatever I'm feeling now. I just need this, right now, just need this time.

My eyes close, still wet, and still seeing crimson.


	4. storm

Chapter 4: Storm

I wince; the bright rising sun in compilation with a wrecking ball hangover simply don't mix. I sit up wondering what the hell I am doing here… outside. Great, I paid for a room and camped out anyway. Searching in my robes for a cigarette, I wonder if Hakkai or Goku even care that I didn't show up at the room last night. Meh, like it matters now. Where's my lighter?! Where is that fucking kappa when you need him?

"Oh yeah." I remember now. He's dead. I just gotta picture him dead. He ain't commin back. He isn't gonna be with Goku making food fights, or with Hakkai buying groceries. He isn't gonna be doing any of those things. Searching for my lighter, I find his bandana, dusty and worn deep in the folds of my robes.

Ironically, I am the person to have this, maybe I should give it to Hakkai. Maybe not.

In his bandana is the lighter; I almost drop the lighter and throw it across the ground. Even when dead the kappa has the lighter! With a shaking hand I flick the lighter and the cigarette begins burning. Yes. This will help. I stand up roughly and shuffle back to the hotel room where there should be coffee. I'll make this day as normal as possible. This morning and this day will be exactly the same as before.

Minus the headache.

Drifting back to the hotel, avoiding people, again normal; I find myself in the lobby. I notice the woman behind the counter looking at me. I look up, there are no "no smoking" signs here. I puff on the last bit of my cigarette.

"Are you the monk Sanzo?" She asks; and as a certain kappa would describe: hot. Though, those descriptions don't exist anymore. I go up to her, wordlessly. She better have good news. I stomp out the butt of my cigarette, wishing it lasted longer. Her warm brown eyes settle on me with a crescent smile.

"Your friends wanted me to tell you that they are in the market shopping for supplies." She chirped, giving me the once over. I cringe inwardly but nod and go to a complimentary coffee pot and pour myself a generous helping of caffeine. I search the tables for a newspaper and spot one. Seated in an old folding chair, I open the paper, going to the sudoku puzzle.

Sitting back in the chair, I force myself to fill in the numbers, but my focus is off. Damnit, this will be a normal morning! I take a spirited gulp of the bland coffee. 4, 9, 1..no that's not right..4,8,1…fuck is it now 7 or 2?! I toss that page of the newspaper away. This sudoku puzzle must be an expert difficulty; it's impossible to figure out! My mind flashes to two different handwritings completing one puzzle and my mouth tears into a scowl. I take another few gulps of coffee, not wanting to enjoy it just wanting it to be over with. I open the paper to look at any articles that might hold my interest and my heart stops at one.

That fucking sandstorm made the third page. I turn another page and look at its headline "The sandstorm, Shirep, claims more lives." I murmur barely out loud. What the fuck? Shirep? I finish off my coffee.

'Shirep the sandstorm blew through the desert yesterday, due East of our village, Yan Ting. His chaos swallowed many, and destroyed much. Our hearts go out to his victims.' I crumple the paper at the edges when my grip tightens. They don't know the half of it, and I don't find that naming sandstorms is something they should continue doing. I spot a local who is standing on the rickety porch of the lobby not to far from me.

"Hey, do they normally name sandstorms in these parts?" I snarl. I don't find that naming a force of nature helps any, if anything it pisses me off. A lot. He turns; his face leathery from years of sun exposure and his clothes bland from the sun fading. He has seen a lot.

"We don't name them; those things name themselves." His voice sounds deep, but a bit scratchy like sandpaper, and I haven't heard such a cryptic explanation since I left Chang An. I stand up and point at him. I'm a little irritated. I know most of it is because I am grumpy due to my hangover, but I have been edgy lately.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" I retort; and he looks to me questioningly. "I almost died in that fucking storm yesterday!" The last part was blurted out unintentionally and I curse myself for it. Why did I go and say that? I must be losing my mind.

"That ain't no normal storm. That one was caused by a demon." His gruff voice makes my mind go blank. A demon caused that storm. Shiren is a name of a demon. I stomp out to the porch and look the man dead in his gray eyes. I glare hard.

"You better not be fucking with me." I spit out, even angrier, but feeling slightly better than I was before I picked up the paper. He stares right back at me like stone. A veteran of enraged stares. He seems serious; he isn't a lunatic.

"Shirep was a wind demon before all the demons went batshit. Now he spends his time roaming the desert, starting sandstorms and destroying or killing anything in his way. He mostly likes trying to root out the people who live in tunnels under the desert sand." He crosses his thin arms across his chest and looks out towards the East. "He won't come into the village until he kills all them 'Tunnelers'. So we don't have to worry about him yet." He admits with his eyes still locked on mine, and I am the first to advert his gaze. I want to bring this demon down. I want to make him hurt. Make him pay. My hangover forgotten, my energy is renewed.

Ever since I have been on this trip, nothing has seemed more urgent than to find this Shirep and blow him off this world.

"Where can I find him?" I demand, my eyes boring into his back, he turned away to leave when I was zoning out. I must look homicidal right now, this can't be good.

"You don't want to. And even if I wanted to tell you; I don't know. Go on with your life, start over. Forget about Shirep; you can't kill chaos, you can't bring anything back." He steps off the porch and into the dirt street, disappearing in the milling crowd of people. I am left on the worn porch, barely breathing.

All my life I have been moving on, and here I am stuck knowing that something horrible happened. He happened. I'm not supposed to be who I am now; I am not supposed to care. But I do. And now all these phrases flood back: I can't change the past, I should live and let live, I should move on, I should just forget I care.

However, those 'I shoulds' aren't enough anymore.

Trying to be who I am supposed to be isn't enough. I want to feel my anger, and I want it to be so great it will command justice. With my mouth in a straight line, I walk back out in the opposite direction towards the small market. There are a few vendors selling vegetables mostly and goat meat, camel milk, rice and other crap.

The people move in a continuous flow, like tides, or the wind. All the while I look for a white dragon, a thin man with a monocle and a hyperactive kid not moving with them. I spot a flapping of white at the far end and start running. I don't know why I'm running, so I stop, compose myself, and continue walking towards them.

"Hakkai, Goku. Got the supplies?" And as soon as those words fly out of my mouth the chimp almost tackles me with a hug. He is almost trembling. Hakkai looks tired, his eyes strained as well as his mouth. He is carrying a few bags of supplies, not too many, most of them are just large water sacs.

"Sanzo! We thought you left us for good! Please don't leave like Gojyo, please!" He sobs into my robes and I push him off me and stare down at him: his eyes puffy from continued tears and sleepless as well. I almost feel guilty. Yet, he said his name; he said that kappa's name. A name I will not think.

"Yes, please do not go off like that again; I almost didn't leave a note for the lady in the lobby." Hakkai calmly inputted, he would be that passive aggressive and just not leave a note for revenge. Actually I'm sort of surprised that he isn't blasting me into ash right now.

"Hakkai—." I pause, that certainly got their attention, all of the sudden their eyes are on me. Should I tell them? Does this new bit of information matter? Hakkai interrupts instead.

"Oh and just so you know, while you were…gone, Goku and I went back into the desert to search." Hakkai pauses, his pleasant appearance plastered like paint on a marionette. I can tell he is almost at the end of his rope. His strings are all but cut. I don't want to see Hakkai lose it.

"We didn't find Go—anything. We searched all night. We didn't find anything, nothing was there. Not a hair." Hakkai looks down; Hakuryuu nuzzles him lightly. Hakkai, almost puppet like, slumped over, staring at the sandy ground. "There was nothing but sand…nothing. The weather reports say that the sandstorm threat is lower today though. I plan to search today also." I almost gulp. The weather reports.

Gravel fills my stomach…why did Hakkai have to remind me of that detail, that he warned me of the sandstorms…that he warned me before…yesterday happened. I clench my fist as I look Goku, his golden eyes downcast at Hakkai, looking almost crumpled. I have to fix this.

"The sandstorm yesterday was not an accident." My voice sounds dead serious, not sarcastic and not grumpy or angry. Hakkai's eyes widen and I see him almost drop his bag of rice. Goku looks at me confused. Hakkai straightens up and his eyes harden into mine, thinking that I must be joking, but knowing that my voice is hiding some truth.

"What exactly do you mean Sanzo?" Hakkai's eyes turn to blades, and now I remember why telling him may not be the best idea: he is going to go off the deep end until we find this guy if I tell him. Well. So be it. I need to get some tension released. Though it must be only the sore joints. Nothing else.

"That sandstorm was caused by a demon, a wind demon that the minus wave warped. They call him Shirep." Hakkai drops the rice. As some of the grains scatter his demonic limiters shake. Goku also comes out of his shock to pound his fist into his hand a few times. I've rarely seen Goku look so mature and serious.

"Are you sure of this Sanzo?" Goku asks, wiping the tears from his face almost innocently, but with a hint of anticipation. He and Hakkai both want it to be true, that we can get justice for what happened…or as some might call it, vengeance. It is strange; by what someone is killed changes their reactions completely even though the outcome is the same.

A demon or an arbitrary sandstorm? Which is a more desirable death for the victim, which is a more desirable death for the ones left behind? Why do my eyes flash when I think of finding this demon? Why did I not feel this way when looking at the sand? I have got to stop philosophizing…none of it does any good.

"Yeah. He is real. And he is responsible." I state, in the back of my mind I see Gojyo tumbling out of sight on the back of Jeep, his shakujou twisting in the sky. His bandana in the sand dune. All of that was done by someone who wanted that to be done. The blood chilling horror of that situation makes me want to find this Shirep even more; knowing that he intentionally spared us and only kil—, that he could have turned the fraction and claimed us all, but didn't.

"With all due respect Sanzo; I cannot continue on this mission until I find him and deal with him as I see fit. The retribution of my sins must take a secondary priority for now." Hearing that from Hakkai shouldn't surprise me, but it does a bit. Hearing him say that his guilt and anguish over Kannan is less than his guilt and despair for the k—, is head spinning. Fuck, what have I done now?

"I agree with Hakkai…I want to findum! I want to…make him pay for what he did! I want him to suffer like he did Gojyo. I want him to die too." Goku takes out his nyoi bo and swings it around in a flourish. He is pumped, yet not the usual pumped he is for a fight. And it's scary that he said what I was thinking not too long ago. They look to me for my decision, what I want to do. Hakkai's mouth is a thin line. I bet he thinks I'll say to do as they please; or some bullshit like that. That I'll continue on without them. And it really dumbfounds me that I bet the monkey thinks the same thing too, that he is willing to risk it to find Shirep.

"Alright. We'll find him. It shouldn't be too hard." I mutter and Goku flings himself into me one more time, this time trembling. I swear this monkey will be the death of me….Wait, I can't think of him as monkey…that isn't right. That's what he called him. I whap him with my fan, cursing and kicking, as he eventually relinquishes his grip. What an idiot.

"This answer…surprises me pleasantly Sanzo." Hakkai gives an almost unintelligible smile, just really a small quirk of some really small facial muscle. It pisses me off that Hakkai thinks I really did care less about him. I do care, that's why I am stuck in this position I am in now. That's why whenever I see the color red I want to lunge out in anticipation. That's why I keep my lighter in his bandana, next to my chest.

"I am not that heartless Hakkai. Let's get moving." I grumble and turn around to go ask someone intelligent about where to find Shirep. Hakkai bends to gather the spilt rice and Goku helps Hakkai with the rest of the supplies. I begin to head towards a stand where newspapers are being sold; I bet someone around there knows some about this Shirep bastard.

"Where is this Shirep, where can I find him?" I tap a burly man on the shoulder and he gives me a half-hearted chuckle.

"Ah, you must be one of those bounty hunters! Haha in disguise as a monk! What will they think of next? Well, no use in witholdin' information I suppose. Everyone knows Shirep makes his camp north of here in some stone ruins 4 miles outside the town. But hey, if I were you, I would let him go; he separates flesh from bone like that!" he snaps his sausage like fingers and fight the urge to roll my eyes. His heavy brow makes him look Neanderthal-like.

"Well, you aren't me." I grind my teeth; at least he didn't believe I am a Sanzo monk, looks like this town won't be asking me to give them good blessings. Gojyo used to hoot at…fuck! I have to stop thinking about him. I have to. He has to get out of my mind forever. And this will be it, once I find this Shirep and kick his ass I will gain the deserved justice for his death and I will move on, no more dwelling in the past, no more grasping onto things that don't exist anymore. I will float through this life.

Just then, I feel a familiar presence near me and my fingers itch towards my gun instinctively. Whipping around in the crowd, I spot someone familiar in a hooded robe looking worse for the wear. His demonic symbol gives it away instantly: Dokugakuji

Fuck. What in the fuck am I supposed to do now?

"Genjo Sanzo, where is Gojyo? Where is my little brother?" I feel everything in me liquefy and turn to ice at the same time. Doku looks like he would kill me right here if that could solve anything. It's pitiful, how he shows his emotion so openly. It is so raw. How dare he come up to me and ask something like that to me expressing emotion on his sleeve. How dare he not hide it! How dare he just suffer this openly. Why does he have that freedom!?

"Your little brother was…killed by a demon." I realize this would be the first time I would admit it out loud. And that sentence feels inadequate to describe it. I feel all my trains of thought go numb. I feel my arms go limp and my eyes downcast, stinging. My knees quiver unnoticed under my robes and I feel the sky is a thousand pounds. His face: framed by crimson hair and adorned with scarlet eyes, laughing, scowling, smirking and sleeping anchors in my mind, stationary and not moving anytime soon.


	5. Whirl

Chapter five: Whirl

As my gaze averts down, Doku charges at me with a speed I didn't know he possessed and clamps down on my throat. His eyes are dark though unsteady. He blames me doesn't he?

"How could you be so callous!? He was your comrade! You don't seem to care one fucking way or another!" His fingers squeeze and his nails constrict, causing blood to trickle down my neck. My gun drops to the ground as he lifts me up. By now, people are fleeing the market…I think I see Goku and Hakkai running. I grip onto his hand with both of mine, struggling to pry his fingers to allow me to breathe. I gag a bit; this really isn't fun. I don't have to wait long however, Goku strikes Doku with his staff and his grip on my neck releases automatically. I fall to the ground on my knees, gasping for breath. He looks down on me with disgust and who am I to suggest otherwise. I grab my gun.

"Leave Sanzo alone!" Goku rages, his golden eyes gleaming like the morning sun. "Just because of what happened to Gojyo doesn't mean you can just go crazy!" Goku blurts out and I straighten up, standing, studying Doku. I hope the minus wave doesn't affect youkai when in a weakened mental state…Doku could actually be going crazy. I look in his eyes, but they seemed focused on me. His sword hand trembling.

"My brother is dead, and Sanzo treats it like nothing at all! I want to know what happened to my brother!" He swings his sword through the air and points it at me. I am confused, what does he want me to do? Break down crying? Theatrics? I don't get it…maybe if he gets me blitzed like I was last night he will get some tears. But I don't want to cry. Crying doesn't do damn thing.

"A demon named Shirep killed your brother." Again, this was just as hard as admitting it the last time. "Shirep started a sandstorm and your brother got caught in it…we are going to kill the demon now. Come along if you wish, but if I hear another bullshit whine from you about my missing theatrics then you are kicked to the curb. I don't need anyone telling me how I should act." I spit out; I suddenly have all this anger again, how dare he accuse me of not caring? Who does he think he is?! Just because he was his brother…and Goku was pretty much adopted brothers with him…and Hakkai was a brother to him also…wait.

They were all brothers to him, each of these guys. I snort and turn towards Hakkai who is looking at me strangely. I don't fit in with these guys…they don't think I care enough because our bond…it wasn't solid. Fuck. I thought I got over this. I thought I finally gave myself a right to care about him. How can they try making me feel guilty for not outwardly showing my grief, while at the same time try making me feel guilty for caring for him at all….It's fucked up. I blame the kappa for this entirely.

"So, you haven't killed the demon yet?! How could the Sanzo-ikkou be so slack in killing some demon that killed their own comrade? If a demon killed Yaone or Liri—"Doku was cut off by a rather pissed looking Hakkai. My eyes widened, Hakkai's hands were glowing and his smile was a wicked, sneering grin.

"How dare you imply that we are incapable of taking care of things that deserve it! We didn't know a demon killed Gojyo until just a few moments ago. We thought it was a normal sandstorm. Dokugakuji, please tread lightly, your brash judgments will not go over well with me." Hakkai finishes, his eyes burning and Goku steps in.

"We were brothers too ya know!." Goku yells; his staff planted in front of him, daring Doku to repute the fact he boldly laid out on the table. Hakkai looks as if he could make Dokugakuji into swiss cheese by a mere flick of the wrist. Suddenly, I could just disappear from this whole conversation. They are all talking about a bond I simply didn't have…and….perhaps in the smallest part of my being, regret not having. I look down one of the main streets that head north and begin walking; ignoring frightened faces in the windows as my paces are even, well placed and solid.

Was what Gojyo and I had…anything compared to what these guys claim to have? Whatever was between Gojyo and I wasn't brotherly, if anything it was more…I cringe at the word…curious.

"Where do you think you're going you worthless excuse for a monk?!" I hear Doku yell from a distance and I draw my banishing gun. I have had far enough of his misdirected rage.

"Shut the fuck up and follow me if you want justice." I aim right at his purple demon mark splayed across his nose. I have lost every ounce of patience with this youkai; he thinks he owns the monopoly on grieving, like he deserves special treatment. I don't know if he does or not, but here in the desert, nothing is special. Everything is the same under the cooking sun. There is no correct food chain in the desert; there is no divine right to live. The power to have water, that is where the right to anything comes from and I don't see Doku producing anything but senseless sentences.

I hear Jeep transform and cruise up towards me; Hakkai is driving of course, in the back is Goku and Doku sitting far from each other as possible, with the large water sacs acting as a barrier between them. There are four water sacs…Hakkai's optimism impresses and scares me. I slide in my rightful seat and look up towards the sun that is already beginning to make me sweat even though it's early morning.

"I hope everyone is ready, because we are going to have a busy day." Hakkai almost chirps into the rear view mirror, to two irritable youkai in the back. I thought grief was supposed to unify people…why are we such a mess? I feel emerald eyes on me and I turn slightly to look at him. I am weary, but am completely up for the fight.

As we leave the village, we race past someone familiar, the first man I talked to about Shirep. His eyes are locked on mine, and he has a wheelbarrow filled with digging tools. Why do I suddenly feel like this is not going to go as planned? I stare ahead at the miserable sight of yellow brown nothingness, speckled and peaked with large dark craggy rocks. It's a most unusual desert. Like this desert wasn't really supposed to be here, that all of the sudden all this sand just fell from the sky. Maybe it was the god's form of a joke.

I tie a piece of cloth around my mouth to keep the dust out, it's windy, but it's not like yesterday. I can see, wiggling from the heat waves, the dim outline of something geometric, or once geometric. Those must be the ruins, the one that meathead was talking about. He better be right about this, usually I am not this brash about just going headlong into a full out assault on possibly faulty information…but, this situation is different than most.

Justice is at the end of all this….

Yet, this feels odd. Like we are missing something….and I look in my sideview mirror, like I normally do, expecting to see the usual crimson, but instead I see espresso brown. That is what we are missing. We are missing the water demon. I knew that already, obviously, but I can't shake the habits of looking back there and expecting something to be there. It got to be so natural, like nicotine in a cigarette, or having a sudoku puzzle in your newspaper. Second nature.

"How tough do you think this guy is? Huh?! I bet he is gonna be a piece of cake…I'm gonna squash him flat, over and over!" Goku's fervor for this attack is almost as much as mine, though I am not one to discuss how I'm going to disintegrate his whole body across this nasty brown yellow expanse. The dust is going to be the end of me, if the sun isn't first. I avoid looking in the mirrors, and other people's eyes as Jeep darts foreword, the ruins creeping ever closer

No sign of a sandstorm yet.

The sweat itches down my forehead and I swipe it away, as if it was more than just a slight nuisance. Demons, by nature, don't sweat as much as humans, their bodies retain water better so they maintain a more constant temperature. This demon is gonna get it; he has me sweaty and filthy out in the almost noonday sun. I can almost feel the anticipation creep into me. Still no sign of this Shirep. He is probably off stirring up more trouble, and killing more people. Pitiful.

"Move this thing faster Hakkai!" I hear Doku bark from behind me, his fingers tapping impatiently on the side of jeep. He really is losing it. Jeep is going fast. I turn and face him, eyes locking.

"Shut up." I state and sit back, rolling my eyes. We will get there at a pace I see fit, whether Kougaiji's pawn likes it or not. I stare at the almost straight horizon, waiting for something to come of this. Distantly I wonder if it will. None of this will change anything. Killing him won't make the odd feeling in the back of my mind disappear. Yet, not doing anything isn't enough. This is so pointless. I gaze sidelong out at the sand…all this, is absurd. I wish I never met these people. Everything would make more sense if I never met Go—

"I'm stopping here, let us go." Jeep slowed to a stop, jerking me out of my musings. I have more pressing things to ponder on now. I reveal my banishing gun as we approach the demolished structure. Huge tumbled and chipped blocks of sandstone are piled in disarray. Old wooden struts and support beams jutting out from the crumbling walls give the structure a skeletal shape. Colorless glass hangs listlessly from some of the frames, obviously they were once windows. Old clothing is strewn about…and upon closer inspection I find them to be child's clothing. Little pants, shoes, hats…strangest shit. A sign half buried in the ground, only shows a partial word "nage"

Then it hits me….this used to be an orphanage.

"Come out you sick, twisted freak! Come and face me! I'll slaughter you right here!" Doku yells at the structure, and in response he gets a small gust of wind. My eyes widen, so he is here. I ready my banishing gun. I want this to be over quickly, but the adrenaline pumping in my blood contradicts me. My whole body is on edge, and is strangely cold in this hot, dry environment. I feel like I could kill him with my bare hands…a strange sense of confidence and perhaps validation feeds this.

He will pay.

"Yeah! C'mon out you coward and show yourself! We know you are in there, don't make us go in and find you!" Goku yells; summoning his Nyoi Bo and crouching, like a jaguar ready to pounce. Hakkai is eerily calm, his fingertips glowing ever so slightly. His eyes are locked on the building, as if we don't exist next to him. If Hakkai will lose it if he takes off his limiters.

"Let's get this over with." A bit of wind surges around me, it coils and threads itself into the decrepit structure. It is almost how diabolical this power could be. And to think it purposely murdered him. It chose him. Why? Why him? Why not m…

My thoughts trail off when a figure appears out of a haze of dust. We all ready ourselves, anticipating the face of a vicious, sun worn creature that claimed the kappa. My gun is raised, and the safety is now unsafe. Six bullets are loaded in the chamber and I have plenty stowed in my robes. It's too windy for a cigarette, but if it wasn't I have my lighter carefully wrapped tight in Gojyo's bandana. I mean kappa's bandana.

The figure emerges from the dust, and all our jaws drop just slightly. My eyes widen just a bit. The figure stands about Goku's height, though much thinner, almost scarily so. His wild, long blonde hair ruffles in the wind. His gray eyes are large, round and childlike. That is because he is probably scarcely fifteen. His body is wracked with various scars, though his mouth is a thin, straight line. He has no weapon, his clothes are nothing but rags, and he regards us with an almost curious glance.

This demon is about as menacing as a bag full of kittens. There must be a mistake.

"Are you Shirep? The demon who is known for the sandstorms?" I bite out, my gun shaking out of anger. Who is this kid? And why is he here? His eyes alight in recognition and immediately turn narrow.

"Who wants ta know?!" He crosses his thin, wiry arms across his flat chest and scrunches his nose up. Goku's fighting stance is less apparent and Doku lowers his sword. Hakkai, however, conjures more ki in his fingers. My gun never leaves my target.

"Tell us now. Or your death will be painful." Hakkai interjects; though I can't say it was unexpected. His eyes have lost all sense of gray area, they see black and white. If I weren't me, I would be very afraid right now. But I'm not, I trust that Hakkai won't blow his gasket yet.

"I won't let ya kill me, you…ya weirdos! Doncha know you aren't supposed to come here?! I'm crazy! I'll blow everythin' away, right now, everythin' will be gone and so will you! I am Shirep, the sandstorm!" He has a heavy accent, as if this language was not native. His eyes sharpen and the dust erupts in a funnel, his limbs are trembling and his fangs glisten in his small mouth. His words though, are quite odd. No one who is crazy admits they are crazy. What is this kid after? The wind howls through the stone walls, and good thing i already tied fabric as a mask. I fire a single shot. It grazes his upper arm, and he seems a bit surprised.

Damn, that wind knocked my shot off, that was supposed to be his chest. Though, a small part of me is relieved to have missed. I sneer; though I have no idea why that small part of me exists. He killed the kappa. He has to pay. Justice.

"You killed my comrade! You killed Gojyo!" Hakkai launches volley after volley of ki blasts at Shirep who manages to deflect some of them with his wind, but one finds its mark on his lower left leg and he crashes to the sand. His gaze is dark; though a bit puzzled. He pushes a wall of sand towards us and I hit the ground instinctively, feeling the sand rush over me like many needles. The wind struggles to roll me over.

"I've killed a lot of those stupid tunnelers! So what?! They deserve their fate for what they did! Your friend deserved ta die for justice!" I lift my head up, Shirep is trying hard to increase his power, but his leg is bleeding heavily; Hakkai probably nicked an artery. I get to a kneeling position, bracing my arm against the wind. Goku besides me struggles to move foreword, using his Nyoi Bo as a cane to pull himself along the sand. Doku is also making progress, everyone honing in on this child who can barely keep us at bay with a wind attack.

"Gojyo wasn't a tunneler! He was in our Jeep, and you knocked him out of it you liar! You killed him on purpose! You wanted him to murder him!" Goku, in a fit of rage, flings himself at Shirep who barely manages to cycle a volley of wind and make Goku's body slap against the sandstone wall, making it give way. Goku lets out a yelp as a wall of sandstone blankets him. My eyes constrict. How dare he.

"Jeep?! I ain't no liar I didn't kill no outsider and neither did my dad!" He announces, tears streaming down his cheeks, which falters my rage. That explains it, this kid wasn't the one who created that monstrous sandstorm the other day; it was his father. Killing the boy would be revenge, not justice. I lower my gun and stare hard into the boy's eyes. The motion was hard, I want to see blood streak the sand badly. Hakkai, out of his trance of past Gonou, regains his composure and Doku stands in disbelief, still prepared to charge him. Seeing the rest stand down, the boy stands down relieved.

"Your dad is the real Shirep isn't he? He was the one who made the sandstorm yesterday." I growl and before the exhausted boy can properly respond, Doku uses every once of his training, rage and speed to capture the boy's throat with his sword before the boy can strike back properly.

"Gojyo was lost in that sandstorm. He had red hair. Why did you kill him?!" Hakkai yells; it's not just sweat running down his cheeks. The boy raises a few dust devils, but knows it's pointless to resist. His gray eyes lock on mine as the pile of fallen sandstone trembles and Goku claws out looking ok.

"Yeah. He did, and I was there too! I can make one too!" Doku presses his sword into the boy's neck and blood trickles down slightly. The dust devils cease. "My dad and I were fightin' ta tunnelers when some shiny contraption came through. A half-breed toppled over when my dad and I were fightin' ta tunnelers. Your friend and my dad fought when it left." So Gojyo put up a fight. It still doesn't sit well with me. I want to know what really happened.

"So. What happened next?!" Doku demanded and the boy's eyes clouded with tears.

"When ma dad and ya friend were scrappin, the tunnelers surrounded 'em. I tried to hold em off, but there were so many of those guys! They…they…took em down there. In ta tunnels. They almost got me, but I ran away, back here. They have ma dad and ya friend!" He yells and our entire group looks like a feather could knock us over.

Gojyo could still be alive.


End file.
